


The Sometimes Cellmate

by FJWard



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Prison, enderborn, evil!Zoeya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FJWard/pseuds/FJWard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rythian finally reveals his secret to his best friend, he never imagined she would turn on him. He trusted her, and now he's paying the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Carefully working the knot loose, he let the cloth fall, revealing the marred skin beneath.  
'So you're Enderborn?' She narrowed her eyes in thought.'Interesting...'  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Rythian didn't know how long he'd been in the facility now. All concept of day and night had been lost. The space he was contained in had no windows; and besides, the facility was underground.  
He knew he'd been wrong to be so trusting in his apprentice, allowing her to keep B.A.R.R.Y under Blackrock. He'd had a bad feeling about the place, but let his emotions cloud his judgement.  
Now he was paying the price.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Rythian felt as if he were in a goldfish bowl. Two of the walls of his cell were made from reinforced glass, with a door set into the third. The cell wasn't small or large; eight paces square, and in one corner stood a metal bedstead. On it there was a thin mattress and a pile of blankets. It could've been worse, he thought to himself. But it also could've been better.  
It'd been a while since Zoeya had last visited. It'd been even longer since she'd talked to him, and that was what hurt the most. She'd become so cold and clinical, practically the opposite of the girl Rythian knew. Her visits weren't regular; his food and water supply was automated. She only visited when she needed new data.  
Half the time, he was angry. Angry at her, for doing this to him, angry at himself for thinking her insatiable curiosity could lead to anything but this. The other half of the time, he just sat blankly. He tried not to let it show when she was around, but Zoeya's betrayal had really hit him hard.   
This was precisely what he was doing one morning (afternoon, night), sat on the bed staring at the glass opposite, when he heard the distant slam of the facility door. Mentally he perked his ears, but remained still, silent. Footsteps echoed down the corridor towards him, but the rhythm was slow, unsure - whoever the visitor was, it wasn’t Zoeya. However, company was company. Cocking his head to one side, he waited for his guest. After a few seconds, a gloved hand appeared around the corner, followed by a curious face, partly obscured by a pair of goggles and a mass of blond curls. Rythian’s eyes widened slightly, shoulders dropping with surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’ He hissed, scowling, throat rasping from disuse. Lifting his goggles off his eyes and settling them on top of his head, Lalna furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Realising the man couldn’t hear him, Rythian rose from the bed and crossed to the cell wall nearest Lalna, who copied him and moved closer to the glass. ‘Why are you here?’ Rythian over-pronounced each word, hoping Lalna could lip-read.  
Apparently, he could. ‘I wanted to see if the rumours were true… Seems they are.’ Rythian could hear the scientist perfectly; he knew Zoeya had microphones installed, but not that they only worked one-way.  
‘What’s going on, Rythian?’ That awfully familiar voice was quiet. Lalna leaned his shoulder against the glass, hands in the pockets of his labcoat, gaze questioning. Rythian let his forehead drop to the cool pane with a dull thunk, eyes closed. The other man was too relaxed - it made him want to punch something, to hurt someone. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged, lifted his gaze and pointed to his scarred face.  
‘Yeah, I wondered if that was it. I’m actually surprised she hadn’t worked it out. I did.’ Lalna grinned slightly.  
Rythian narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow, trying to convey his distaste at the thought of Lalna knowing of his “condition”.  
Lalna pushed away from the glass, hands still in his pockets, and walked in a small circle, eyes drinking in the facility walls. ‘Seems odd,’ he said, still smiling a little. ‘Feels like it would’ve been me that kidnapped you and conducted experiments. Guess I was beaten to it.’ His eyes flicked up to meet Rythian’s, who promptly shook his head derisively. He’d never pictured Lalna as the sort of person to make cliché, self-centred monologues. Approaching the cell, the blond raised his arms above his head, bent at the elbows, and leaned against it. ‘What?’ He smirked. ‘Can a genius not think aloud to a captive audience?’   
Rythian rolled his eyes. Lalna chuckled and tapped a fingertip against the glass after a few moments of quiet. ‘Well, as much as I’d love to stay and “chat”, I think I hear the sound of a technomage.’ He turned to leave, but stopped just before he rounded the corner. ‘Goodnight, Rythian.’ Then he disappeared, leaving only the echo of footsteps and a ghost of breath on the glass.


	2. Chapter 2

These visits continued for what felt like months to Rythian. Sometimes, Lalna would appear for just a moment, never saying a word, just watching. Other times, he would stay for hours, chatting about nothing in particular, content with the odd gesture in reply on the mage's part. Rythian found himself marking time between visits, living only for the next.  
He chose to ignore the voice inside his head that told him things were changing.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ If he had to guess how long it was since his guest had last visited, Rythian would say about three days.  
He was sat, propped sideways against the cell wall, staring at the tears in his leggings, as he had been for the past hour or so. Upon hearing the scientist enter, he didn't look up but raised his hand in acknowledgement as Lalna approached the glass.  
'Hey. How's life on the inside?'  
Rythian turned his head to reply, only to see the scientist's grin fall, immediately replaced by a troubled look.  
'What happened to your eye?'  
A hand flew up to probe the socket, feeling the tender flesh over his cheekbone, then lowering in remembrance. I refused to comply, Rythian mouthed simply, shrugging.  
Lalna's eyes widened slightly, lips parting in surprise. 'She did that?' There was an undercurrent of concern in Lalna's steady voice. He sank to his knees beside the glass and asked quietly: 'Are you alright?'  
Rythian nodded, and Lalna quirked a brow as if to say "I don't believe you", but let it go. 'I still think it's odd, that in the end it was her that got you. She hasn't done anything like this before, has she?' Rythian raised an eyebrow, then shook his head as one would at a small child.  
'Of course she hadn't. Everyone thought you two were, y'know, together.' Lalna lowered his head, chuckling in slight disbelief. 'Obviously not. No-one could do this to the person they loved...' His eyes flicked up to meet Rythian's through his fringe. The mage slowly dragged his hand over his face, fingertips finding the deep furrows of scar tissue on his lips. Turning to face Lalna on the other side of the glass, Rythian pointed to himself. The blond caught on fairly quickly, a hesitant 'you...?' falling from his lips. Rythian nodded, then laid his palm across where his heart would have been if he had one.  
'Love?'  
The mage held his thumb and forefinger close together - nearly - and pointed to the left.  
'...loved?' Lalna, pleased with the little game, made jerky "go on" movements with his hands.  
Rythian grinned a little at their game, forgetting his emotions were no longer hidden behind cloth, and pointed to the low ceiling above their heads.  
Looking up, Lalna furrowed his brow in confusion. 'The castle?' He said, glancing back down at Rythian, who was shaking his head. He pointed upwards again, with more insistence, then at his damaged eye.  
Realisation slowly dawned on the blond's face. Cocking his head to the side, he muttered a curse and placed his hand against the glass. 'Shit, Rythian...'  
The mage laid his hand along Lalna's, the thick glass cold beneath their palms. Meeting the scientist's eyes, Rythian smiled a small, sad smile, then shrugged.  
Lalna's fingers curled into a fist, and he thunked his head against the barrier between them.  
Suddenly, both their heads snapped to attention as quick, purposeful footsteps echoed against the marble floor. Lalna's panicked eyes flicked between Rythian's face and the corridor, before he swiftly rose to his feet and disappeared further into the facility. Rythian scrambled backwards up onto the mattress, settling himself just as Zoeya rounded the corner, a potion bottle in her hand. As she approached the cell, she refused to meet the mage's eyes that were trained on her, instead focusing on the bottle and her hand reaching out to open the hatch door set into the wall. She slipped the bottle inside and let the hatch fall shut, finally looking up at him.  
'For your face,' she told him, her voice toneless, before leaving again. He watched her retreating figure, then stood to examine what lay in the hatch. Taking the cork from the neck of the bottle, he sniffed, nose crinkling in disgust. He held it up to the light, Lalna reappearing in his peripheral vision.  
'What is it?' He asked as soon as they heard the distant thud of the facility doors.  
Rythian shrugged. Looks like a healing potion, he mouthed. Doesn't smell like one though.  
The scientist's brows lowered in confusion. 'What are you going to do with it?'  
Rythian sighed and tipped the bottle on end. Put some on. What have I got to lose?  
He ran the slimy paste across his fingertips, then dabbed gingerly at his bruised cheek. There was an unpleasant coldness to it, but he ignored it. Corking the bottle back up, he sank down onto his haunches and rolled it under the bed.  
'That could do anything to you, you know,' Lalna muttered, settling back down uneasily.  
Rythian nodded, inhaling deeply through his nose as his eye grew numb. He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the glass, relaxing as Lalna's steady voice washed over him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Needles etc.

He was woken by a rough shaking and sharp fingers digging into his shoulder. 'Wakey wakey, Enderborn.'  
The voice was familiar but not, the friendly tones he once knew so well now lost to him in all but his memories. His eyes flew open, then snapped shut almost immediately, half blinded and unwilling to look into those pale blue eyes.  
'Not an option.' Her voice was stern, as if talking to a misbehaving animal, words punctuated by a harsh yank on his shirt, pulling him upright off the thin mattress. 'Now, are you going to co-operate and walk, or do I have to drag you?'  
Nostrils flaring in barely-controlled anger, Rythian rose to his feet, straightening his back with fractured pride. He towered above his captor, but it made no difference. She knew his every fault and weakness, and there was nothing he could do, short of killing her; even if he was armed he knew he'd never be able to do it. He followed obediently, her strength surprising him yet again as she took his wrist into a vice-like grip.  
As they made their way through the bright white corridors of the facility, Zoeya never once spared a glance at her old mentor, the silence broken only by their footsteps.  
Presently, she stopped beside a heavy iron door, typing a code into the keypad on the right. The door quietly swung open, and pulling him forward, Zoeya released Rythian's wrist, shutting the door behind them. The bright fluorescent bulb stuttered to life with a click, revealing a large metal table with restraints at either side and along one end. A small, square tray sat on the counter set against far the wall, all kinds of intricate medical instruments gleaming on the sterile surface. Rythian's eyes widened then narrowed, his scarred mouth pulling back into a grimace. Zoeya brushed past him dismissively, ignoring his hostility. She worked with something at the counter for a moment, then she turned back to him with a syringe in hand, the needle glimmering in the light. Rythian snarled lowly, instincts screaming to fight.  
'Now, now,' Zoeya scolded, pulling her goggles over her eyes. 'There's no need to be like that. This won't even hurt.'  
Before Rythian could react, she had his arm twisted up behind his back and the needle into the muscle just below his shoulder. She depressed the plunger quickly and drew the needle out in one fluid movement, rubbing the area with her fingertips to diffuse the liquid now under his skin. 'Good boy,' she murmured as Rythian felt his limbs growing weak. Unable to support his frame any longer, he collapsed to his knees, clawing for purchase on the counter top as Zoeya looked on in apathy. The light seemed to swell and fill his vision for a split second, and then everything went black.  
~ ~ ~  
The first thing he noticed were the sounds. Nothing loud, but without his vision, his hearing was sensitive to the smallest thing. There was the soft rhythm of pacing feet, and occasionally the clink of metal. He stayed this way for a moment which could have been a minute or an hour, until a new noise broke the monotony. The door swished open, a pair of heavy boots entering the room. He thought he knew the sound from another place, but his drugged up mind refused to provide any explanation. There was the snap of latex gloves, then her voice echoed dully through the room.  
'Why are you so late?'  
Rythian could hear the sigh of fabric on fabric as the newcomer shrugged.  
'Never mind, he's still under,' she declared lightly.  
'Right. Where do you want to start?' That voice, that terrible, familiar voice... Rythian lay stunned. What the hell was he doing here? He gathered what was left of his strength, forcing his eyelids open, refusing to believe his ears. All he could see as his eyes adjusted was the ceiling and the lamp above the table. He was lying on his back on the table, arms and legs in the restraints he had noticed previously, metal cold and unyielding against his bare flesh. He tried to move his head to get a better view of the room, but it felt as if his bones had turned to lead. His mind was whirling with half formed thoughts and questions; belatedly, he realised the pair were now debating how to go about the situation. They stopped then, and Rythian heard them approach the table. Zoeya hummed tunelessly as he heard the tray being set down beside him. Lalna suddenly murmured, 'I'm going to check if he's still properly sedated, okay? His eyes are open.'  
He felt fingertips press into his wrist, and then a face, framed by unruly blond curls, filled the right side of his vision. He pulled Rythian's eyelids wide, examining his pupils, then the scientist leant forward as if listening to his breathing, mouth close to his ear.   
'I'm so sorry,' he breathed softly, before pulling away and declaring loudly, 'He'll be fine. Go ahead.'  
And before Rythian could make sense of what he'd just heard, a streak of white hot pain opened up his chest, and darkness engulfed him once again.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, this is slightly AU. When Rythian and Zoey found out about the bombs under Blackrock, Zoey left them alone - they're still there, undisturbed. Rythian's starting to lose his human side from isolation, and Lalna's just here to make everything complicated, as per usual.


End file.
